


somewhere in the belly of the beast

by thehollowones



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canonical Child Abuse, Credence Barebone Deserves Better, Drabble, Emotional Manipulation, Heavy Angst, M/M, come sin with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 12:31:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9071800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehollowones/pseuds/thehollowones
Summary: Credence knows about God. He is much like Mary-Lou: cold, punitive, fond of sacrifice and flood. Then a pair of eyes flash from the alleyway, and Credence realizes he knows nothing of divinity.





	

Always, there is the cold. Poking needle sharp through loosened thread, sending fingers up his pant legs and down the collar of his coat. His skin stretches tight against his frame, seeking warmth. His face aches and chaps. Even in the sweltering heat of summer, Credence’s body remembers, ready to shake on command.

Always, there are people. Children with eyes like hard coins who listen to Mary-Lou, who take pamphlets in exchange for survival. The others, legion, who brush past him. They step on his toes. They jostle his arms. They violate the boundaries of his body until his fingers start to blur at the edges.

Always, there is the pain. Always, there is the anticipation of the pain.

One day Credence is touched kindly by a woman with dark hair and a trembling gash of a mouth. She puts her fingers on the greenish veins of his inner wrist, lays a hand on his shoulder. She does all this while Mary-Lou is folded up in the corner like a paper doll. The woman is not afraid of Mary-Lou, but she is afraid.

Always, there is the violence, even then.

When Mr. Graves touches him, it is not a kindness. The hand on the back of Credence’s neck is _desire-fear-sin-want_. It is the kind of thing that could be best expressed by a long German word. Credence knows nothing of German, so he calls it good.

After the first touch, there is another and another. He holds them inside his chest like the blue marble Modesty had once found on the street. He curls his spine, a dragon with his horde. Modesty was beaten for her marble, for her covetousness. He will not be.

The cold, the people, the pain, the anticipation, the touches. He is a freak. He is a dear boy. He will burn in hellfire. He will see a new world open up before him.

Credence knows about God. He is much like Mary-Lou: cold, punitive, fond of sacrifice and flood. Then a pair of eyes flash from the alleyway, and Credence realizes he knows nothing of divinity.

**Author's Note:**

> Just trying to process my love for Credence and this ship. I do not own these characters.


End file.
